


Dying Fairies

by Ulrica



Category: SHINee
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Neverland, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-19
Updated: 2016-04-19
Packaged: 2018-06-03 07:42:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6602500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ulrica/pseuds/Ulrica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are different ways for a fairy to die, and they always start with them being unable to fly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dying Fairies

There are different ways for a fairy to die, and they always start with them being unable to fly.

Onew’s wings were bright green and purity free, with little scars all around them. He was lonely childhood and wet memories; breeze, intangible glass and quiet pray. He was the caves, the holes of Neverland, all those places that will try to take your breath away, be careful for he knows how to chase. He was just a little kid in the middle of a war; he didn’t know how to use a gun or how to take a life.

Onew went to the war for one hundred and seventy days, at the afternoon of the seventh day a lost soldier died in his arms, his mother found the scars seven months after he came back home; they weren’t battle scars.

Jonghyun’s wings were dark blue, they were made of strings and forgotten love. They bled a lot, sometimes all day long, sometimes all night long; he wasn’t sure how he was still alive. Jonghyun was stars and undefined angles, short lines and diamonds. He was the voice of all of those angels your mother told you were watching you at night, he was the sea of Neverland; volatile, loud and sad. He would drink your tears and take the salt.

Jonghyun’s best friend committed suicide at the age of sixteen, he still remembers the blood on the tub, sometimes he wishes he could bleed dry too; so then he bled, but his parents always found him in time.

Key’s wings were light pink, made of paper and sugar. They were like the petals of those flowers you used to play with when nobody saw you; they had gaps everywhere, as if someone had cut them. He was all sorts of magic and potions, sweet scent and light kisses; he was the beach in Neverland. Key was an observer, he liked to sit and look at all the things that were around him, even the ones he wasn’t supposed to look at.

Key cut his wings when he saw his father cut his mother’s ones. He didn’t cry that night, and the breeze was soft against his skin.

Minho’s wings were orange and made of iron, with a translucent feel of euphoria. They wrapped all around his body, as if he were scared of letting them out. He was wind and dirt, all those things you knew as a child and slowly forgot as you grew up; like those little used toys you threw under your bed. He was the darkest part of Neverland, that side of the forest you should never go to for if you went Peter wouldn’t be able to bring you back.

Minho’s brother died when he was ten years old, and that was the first time he was afraid to fly.

Taemin’s wings used to be yellow and fragile; they were made of dreams, songs and lost words. He was all those whispered confessions you thought you dreamt, all those little voices you thought you forgot, all those little noises you giggled at as a child. He was a love letter and a formless night. He was the sky of Neverland. His wings weren’t there anymore; the last thing left of them was a huge scar that would never disappear. Taemin was all eyes and pink lips, long legs and soft skin. He was a fairy made to be touched, or so a drunken soul had said once.

One starless night the drunken soul ripped Taemin’s wings out. He doesn’t wishes them back, not anymore.

They were little dying fairies of Neverland.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/ulricaikari)


End file.
